


Tastefully Obscene

by Mraowface



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Artfully placed snakes, M/M, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Tasteful nude photography, This is why Aziraphale shouldn't be left unsupervised
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:53:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22684282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mraowface/pseuds/Mraowface
Summary: Crowley wakes up in snake form, covered in rose petals, and finds that Aziraphale has had far too much time (and a vintage camera) on his hands.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 121





	Tastefully Obscene

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone wants to draw me some art of Aziraphale's photography, I can die happy...

Crowley awoke from a somewhat confusing dream, feeling not very well rested. It felt like he'd been winding himself in knots on the bed. It wouldn't be the first time...

As he came to his senses, a few different realisations struck him. There was a sort of perfumed smell that hit him first. As a snake his vision wasn't great, but he next noticed the hundreds of rose petals scattered across the bed. Weird. Had he missed something important? And why was there a large, old fashioned camera and tripod set up across the room from him? Crowley had questions.

It was then that Aziraphale came back into the room, carrying two wide-brimmed glasses filled with – Crowley flicked his tongue out to scent the room – champagne, and wearing a pale blue silk chemise which skimmed his thighs attractively. Crowley was _really_ starting to think he'd missed something here. He weaved his head from side to side a little in confusion.

Aziraphale noticed the movement. “Oh, you're awake!” He looked... guilty? “I was – I was hoping to get a few more shots done first. Um. Never mind. Would you like some champagne?”

Crowley hissed distractedly. His head felt like he'd been asleep for a month, and he wasn't altogether certain that he wasn't still dreaming. Deciding this was all too much to deal with as a snake, he blinked back into human form.

“Zira, what'sss -” he paused to control the hissing - “What's going on?”

The angel's face was looking guiltier by the minute. “Oh dear... and I hadn't even got to April yet.”

“Aziraphale. What. The fuck. Is going on?”

“Well dear, I thought I'd surprise you...” Aziraphale proffered a wine glass. “Don't you want your champagne?”

“Why is there a camera in our bedroom?”

“Um. It was meant to be a surprise!” Aziraphale's voice turned impressively high pitched.

“I am surprised. Why the fuck am I covered in rose petals, and why are you dressed like that?”

“Don't you like it?” The angel tried for a hurt expression.

Crowley sighed in exasperation. “You look gorgeous, angel. But _why_ are you dressed like that, and _why did you cover my sleeping body in rose petals?_ Why is there a _fucking camera_ pointed at me?”

“Ah. I suppose I've got some explaining to do. Well... you've been asleep for nearly two months now, and I might have got a _little_ bit bored. And – don't get angry now – I might have taken a couple of minor liberties.”

“ _What_ minor liberties?”

“It's ah... hard to explain. Maybe I'd better show you. It's – it's all _very_ tasteful...”

Crowley did not feel reassured by this. Brushing rose petals awkwardly from his still stiff from sleep body, he waited as Aziraphale put down the champagne, fished a laptop out from by the bed, and opened it.

Aziraphale stabbed hopefully at a few buttons, before just willing the computer to behave as he wished it. The screen obediently filled itself with a thoroughly unexpected photograph.

It was of Aziraphale, in a lush and verdant garden. Naked, in a garden, with his genitals barely covered by a large and deeply familiar black and red snake.

“What the _actual fuck,_ Aziraphale? Is that _me?_ ”

“Well... yes, dear. I thought it would be a nice surprise... I really did get _awfully_ bored without you, so – so I thought I'd make a sort of surprise for you to wake up to.”

“I _am_ surprised, Zira. I'm _very_ fucking surprised. Where the fuck did you take me?”

“A lovely little private garden I hired out for the day. It really was _very_ discreet...”

“You hired a whole garden. To take a photograph.” Crowley did not feel like he had a grip on this conversation at all.

“Well, maybe not just one photograph... There – there _might_ have been a few more.”

“Show me.”

Aziraphale sighed, and waved at the computer. The next picture came up. In this one, the angel appeared side on, one arm reaching upwards. Crowley glared at his offensively gorgeous arse.

“Zira, is that a _fucking_ apple tree?”

“Well, yes. But don't you look _attractive?_ ” Aziraphale pointed at Crowley's artfully draped loops, positively dripping from the tree.

Crowley did not respond, except to prod the laptop on to the next picture. In this one, the angel was taking a bite out of a glossy red apple, wearing an ecstatic expression, and nothing else. With one hand he was tilting the snake's head close to the apple.

“ _Alcohol_. Give me the fucking champagne _now_ , Aziraphale.” Crowley rapidly downed half the glass, and coughed heavily.

Aziraphale spoke up. “I thought it was rather an aesthetic composition. Don't you think your scales look lovely in the morning sunlight?”

There was a pause as Crowley attempted to drown himself in the rest of his champagne. He sighed. “I think we both look fucking gorgeous. But you couldn't have just _asked?_ ”

“Well dear, I thought that might spoil the surprise. I really was hoping to get the full calendar done first.”

“ _Full calendar?_ ”

Wordlessly, Aziraphale waved the laptop to February's offering. This one featured Roman pillars, and some interestingly arranged grapes.

Crowley burst into unexpected laughter. “You really are batshit crazy, you know that angel?”

“I wouldn't have phrased it quite like that, dear. But... you're not too angry? I really did mean it as a nice surprise for you.”

“Zira, I think you're utterly mental. Just, can I please be _awake_ next time?”

Argument defused, the pair fell to drinking, and discussion of future photography. It turned out that Aziraphale had some _very_ interesting ideas for the remaining bottle of champagne...

**Author's Note:**

> Valvopus: it's a shame I'm so terrible at photography...


End file.
